<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>Porcelain Wings by StrawberrySorbet0</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29118855">Porcelain Wings</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/StrawberrySorbet0/pseuds/StrawberrySorbet0'>StrawberrySorbet0</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Original Work</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angel Wings, Angst, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Blood and Injury, Body Modification, Caretaking, Chains, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Dubious Consent, Eventual Smut, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, Hurt/Comfort, I just want to cover all my bases, Injury, Kidnapping, Kissing, M/M, Medical, Modern Royalty, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Not Beta Read, Rape, Rape/Non-con Elements, Royalty, Smut, Sorry about all the tags, Violence, Wing Grooming, Wingfic, Wings, ill add more if they're needed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-31</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-03-07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 11:42:24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>7</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>20,873</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29118855</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/StrawberrySorbet0/pseuds/StrawberrySorbet0</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>In the land of Praenia the blessed are a class of people, supposedly chosen by the gods to be gifted with unique appearances. They are treasured by all. Especially the royal family whom have the ability to mark a blessed as their own and to form a bond with them. The blessed are coddled by a society that is convinced they cannot think for themselves. So when at 14, Illian Finch, an attendant to the crown prince discovers two nubs on his back that will one day become magnificent wings he knows he must run to maintain any form of freedom or choice in his life. But 4 years later he is found and brought back to the very palace he escaped only to discover the Prince is now the King. How will Illian handle this situation? Will he be able to escape? Or will King Arom maintain his grip on him?</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Illian Finch/Arom Hester Colsain, OC/OC, Original Male Character/Original Male Character</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>88</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Prelude Part 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Chapter 1</p>
<p>A Prelude</p>
<p>	It was a warm spring day, with a pleasant, cool, breeze. Illian thought it was the perfect weather. He always enjoyed the feeling of wind blowing through his hair. He was in the front courtyard with Arom, who was showing him the latest moves he had learned in sword training. While Illian sat on the grass and watched. He didn’t really see the point of learning to use a sword. What good will a sword be against a gun or even a taser?</p>
<p>“It’s about tradition and learning skills for life,” Arom always got so huffy when Illian questioned what good all his cool stabs and slashes would be in a real fight.</p>
<p>“What skills?”</p>
<p>Arom opened his mouth, then paused and thought for a moment. His face got all scrunched up and Illian had to fight off a snicker at how funny he looked trying to figure out what these supposed skills were. </p>
<p>Finally, he looked down at Illian and answered “Well I don’t know, but that’s what all my trainers say.”</p>
<p>“Ok fine, but say you had your sword and I had a taser. All I’d have to do is give you one shock and I’d win.”</p>
<p>“But I’d stab you before you could get close enough”</p>
<p>“Not if I had one of the tasers with the wire things that shoot out. I’d press one button and you’d be all like zaziytzz.” Illian acted out Arom being hit with a taser and having a seizure, ending it by dramatically falling on the floor and continuing to convulse. All while giggling hysterically. </p>
<p>Arom rolled his eyes and smirked. “Nuh-uh, cause I would side step the wires then sneak behind you and with one slash you’d be down.” He punctuated his statement by slashing an imaginary sword through the air, his real sword laying long forgotten to the side.</p>
<p>Illian got up. “But while you snuck behind me I would turn around and zap you while you were distracted.”</p>
<p>“I would just duck down and sweep your legs.”</p>
<p>“I could jump over your sword and taze your head!”</p>
<p>“But what would you do if I did this?” Arom ran up behind Illian and lifted him up. Illian squealed and kicked his legs, but being much shorter couldn’t escape his hold. He squirmed until Arom presumably took pity and placed him down. Only to have Illian immediately turn around and attempt to push him over. </p>
<p>“Why you.” He made to grab Illian again but he was quick to scamper off to which Arom gave chase. </p>
<p>They ran around fountains and extravagant plant arrangements getting sweaty and red in the face. Eventually, each had picked up a stick and were mock fighting. Illian with clumsy, slow, moves as he attempted to control a stick that was much too large for his small six-year-old hands; and Arom with swift, surprisingly skillful for a ten-year-old, slashes and jabs. Arom easily blocked each of Illian’s attacks and returned his own smacks to his arms and legs, but was careful to be gentle enough to not leave bruises. </p>
<p>Illian knew that Arom was always gentle with him and would sooner cut off his own arm before he saw any real harm befall him. It was only for this reason that Illian dared tease or ruff-house the Prince of Praenia, even though he was so much younger if any other child his age attempted half of what he did with Arom they would have been swiftly dealt with and possibly never seen again. However, Illian, the child of a palace maid, was the only other child around Arom’s age within the palace. As such they were great friends and Arom loved the younger boy. </p>
<p>They continued their mock battle until Illian grew tired and plopped down under a large tree. </p>
<p>“Ok, maybe sword training is kinda cool.” He huffed. </p>
<p>Arom laughed, “maybe I’ll show you some tricks some time. That is if you can keep up.” he slunk down next to Illian and pinched his shoulder. </p>
<p>“Ow! Do you really mean that?” He would never admit it, but being able to pull off the same stunts as Arom was undoubtedly exciting. </p>
<p>“I do, you could use my old wooden sword; it would probably be about the right size for you,” he was about to suggest they go grab the tool when two blessed walked past surrounded by more guards then even Arom used, he paused to look at them. Illian turned to stare as well.</p>
<p>One had softer features, a slight green tint to her skin, and small flower buds growing along her arms. She wore a long linen dress made up of different pastels that went well with her natural beauty. Her claiming marks were around both wrists. Bright blue patterns that represented whichever royal she was bound to. </p>
<p>The other was taller, with sharper features, his eyes were bright yellow and reminded Illian of a cat’s. His skin was darker, except where bright green scales sprung up. His attire too was made of fine material, silk, if Illian had to guess. He couldn’t see any claiming marks on him, perhaps they were somewhere under his clothes or perhaps he had been bound not to a royal but to some other member of the nobility.</p>
<p>“Beautiful, aren’t they,” whispered Arom. He studied the pair, in awe. It wasn’t quite rare to see blessed around the palace, but Arom was always taken back by their unique appearances and grace. </p>
<p>Illian thought differently. Sure, they always smiled politely enough and they certainly looked beautiful, covered in jewels and painted in just the right way to highlight their distinctive beauty, but their eyes were hollow and scared him. They were always surrounded by guards and noblemen. Never allowed outside of the palace without special permission and half the army. It seemed like an awful fate to Illian. To one day discover that you had been chosen by the gods as one of the blessed. To be taken away from your home and forced to marry a member of the royal family or a high ranking noble. To be treated as if you were made of porcelain, a beautiful thing incapable of individual thought. Illian shuddered. </p>
<p>He could never express these thoughts to Arom though. As the first prince he would inevitably marry a blessed one day. And although Arom’s mother wasn’t a blessed herself, the king did marry a blessed named Assan, who Arom adored for her quiet demeanour and the way she would show him how to sketch various plants or fixtures of the palace. As far as Arom was concerned the system surrounding the blessed was perfect and all those within it perfectly happy and content.  </p>
<p>Illian painted on a smile, “yes very beautiful.”</p>
<p>Just then a servant came up to inform the prince that he needed to begin his history lessons. Arom said a hasty goodbye and promised Illian they would play more later. </p>
<p>Illian got up as well and decided he’d go see if his mother needed any help with the laundry.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>So there it is, my first time posting something I've written. If you liked it please comment or leave kudos, they will inspire me to write more. If you hated it please let me know if I can fix something, but know that I have a very fragile sense of confidence so again please be nice. Sorry about the grammar. It was never my strong suit. Thank You so much for reaching this point! I'll see you next time!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Prelude Part 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Eight years later, Illian notices a change.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Eight Years Later</p>
<p>	The sun peaked annoyingly through Illian’s curtains and he scrunched his eyes closed defiantly. Yes, the sun being this high most definitely meant he was late. Yes, Arom would be cranky if he wasn’t there to wake him up and another servant was forced to do it. But, he was so cozy. Arom knew how much he enjoyed sleeping and had spoiled him at his fourteenth birthday with a soft set of plush sheets and pillows, the kind usually reserved for nobility. The sheets certainly looked out of place in the servant’s quarters, but no one would dare question why the prince’s beloved attendant was given such a luxury. When Illian himself had expressed apprehension at using them Arom had simply suggested he arrange for Illian to have a private room. An idea Illian vehemently rejected, already afraid he looked snobbish to the others. Illian was always afraid of being hated by the other servants, even though they were always very kind to him. Ever since his mother had passed and Arom had gotten him a job as his personal attendant Illian feared messing up. He was, afterall, much younger than most of the other workers who began their jobs at eighteen at the earliest.</p>
<p>It said sheets that seemed to wrap around Illian right then, demanding he stay. And really who was he to refuse? He turned onto his back and resigned himself to the lecture Arom was sure to give him when he finally did begin his duties. He was attempting to get comfortable but there were two lumps in his mattress he couldn’t ignore. Every time he moved they seemed to follow him. After five minutes of squirming around uselessly he gave up on any more sleep and finally got out of bed. To his surprise, when he looked down he didn’t see any lumps on his mattress. He even reached down and felt for them, but found nothing. Confused, he reached to his back and felt for any tender areas wondering if what he felt were muscle knots. </p>
<p>To his utter shock his hand found a small hard lump between his right shoulder blade and spine. There was another lump on his left side. They seemed to be made of some sort of cartilage. Illian felt his pulse quicken. He quickly made his way to the mirror and removed his shirt, thanking the gods that all the other servants had left the chamber already. Was he sick? Were these strange growths some form of skin disease? He turned to look at his back. </p>
<p>And froze. </p>
<p>There on either side of his spine were two tiny bumps, each covered in small tufts of feathers. They were the beginnings of wings. He would have wings. But that made no sense; only blessed could have wings and he wasn’t blessed he couldn’t be. He loved going down to the markets or climbing up the highest trees. He could never be content to sit inside the palace all day like the other blessed. But the proof was right there, unmistakable. He was a blessed. He would never again be allowed to run around the forest or go on hunting trips with Arom… Arom oh how could he tell Arom, he would never see him the same way again. Arom would only see another beautiful, fragile, doll, to coddle and look at not the friend he had been for fourteen years. Not the boy he had taught to sword fight and to climb the palace gate where the guards wouldn’t see. </p>
<p>Illian felt dizzy, he sat down on his bed and held his head. He couldn't, he just couldn’t do it. He didn’t know what he’d do, but he knew he couldn’t live the life of the blessed. He got up and began to get dressed. Newly determined to make sure Arom noticed nothing out of the ordinary with him. Being sure to choose a bulky shirt, he was out the door as quick as he could. Trying his hardest not to be late.</p>
<p>------------------------------------------------------------</p>
<p>“You’re late.”</p>
<p>“I know, I’m sorry, I slept in, Illian huffed. He had run all the way to Arom’s chambers but still hadn’t made it in time. </p>
<p>“I had to wake up by myself, and get dressed alone! All because you couldn’t be bothered to wake up on time.”</p>
<p>“I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I know how much you struggle to put your own pants on, what with all the zippers and buttons. We can’t expect someone who can command an army to know how to choose his own socks, can we?”</p>
<p>“I oughta have you hung up by your ankles.”</p>
<p>“But then who would tie your shoes?”</p>
<p>“Shut up.”</p>
<p>“Yes, mylord.” </p>
<p>The bickering continued while Illian helped Arom with the rest of his attire. Despite his claims, Illian noticed that Arom hadn’t gotten very far in dressing himself. Illian suspected he actually might not know how to tie his shoes and smiled to himself. There was a celebration today, so Illian chose Arom’s formal attire knowing he would go straight from his office to the dinner. He only hoped he wouldn’t sneak out to the training grounds. If he did that he’d have to change and Illian didn’t want to deal with the thousands of buttons and tassels more than was strictly necessary. </p>
<p>When he was done, he had to admit Arom looked quite good. His suit was white and buttoned up to the collar with gold buttons. Dark blue tassels hung off his shoulder pads and matched the dark blue sash that hung across his torso. Said torso was covered with various badges and medals. He’d put his crown on later, Arom hated how it weighed down his head while he looked down at his paperwork. </p>
<p>“Done?”</p>
<p>“Done.”</p>
<p>“Good, I’m already late. Please bring my breakfast to my office, and don’t forget the coffee.” With that Arom walked off and Illian headed down to the kitchens. </p>
<p>---------------------------------------------------------------</p>
<p>The dinner celebration was going well except that Illian kept having to resist the urge to reach back and touch his nubs, which rubbed annoyingly against his formal wear. </p>
<p>The grand dining hall had been filled with more tables than usual. Along with even more plants and bright fairy lights to make it feel like an outdoor garden party. The tables were filled with hundreds of elegant guests all chatting away while dining on various delicacies the kitchens had worked tirelessly to produce. Praenia would present nothing less for a royal celebration. </p>
<p>Arom seemed to be doing well, chatting up foreign dignitaries and ministers. When Illian was called over to refill some glasses one of the men sitting to Arom’s right made a comment about his looks. He was some foreign ambassador from one of the eastern countries sent to discuss gods knew what with Praenia’s government.  </p>
<p>“Your attendant is quite beautiful, your highness.”</p>
<p>“Yes, quite.” Arom’s tone was friendly and light, but Illian saw the cold tint in his eyes and noticed that he was careful to call only other servers to his table from that point on. </p>
<p>As the final dishes were taken back and the final dinner discussions came to a close Illian followed Arom back to his chambers. There he helped the prince out of his clothes and drew him his usual bath.</p>
<p>While Illian sat behind the tub full of warm water and sweet smelling bubbles, washing Arom’s head with a shampoo he was sure was worth more than a month of his own salary, the prince lifted his head and spoke.</p>
<p>“You seemed to find quite a few admirers at tonight’s event.”</p>
<p>“Who, that random ambassador?”</p>
<p>“Him… and a few others who seemed to be paying special attention to you.”</p>
<p>“Well can you blame them, look at me.”</p>
<p>“Hmm, you’re right. They must all be insane. Nonetheless, perhaps you should wear something a little less flashy to the next feast.”</p>
<p>“Afraid I’ll steal your thunder?”</p>
<p>“Now look who's gone insane.”</p>
<p>“Ok, whatever. Hold your breath.” Illian poured water over Arom’s head.</p>
<p>Arom gasped overdramatically, “trying to kill me, Illian?” </p>
<p>“Hmm, and never have to wake up early or saddle up another horse? Tempting, but I guess you are good for some things, so I’ll keep you around for a while.”</p>
<p>“Oh how very kind of you.” Arom rose out of the tub and reached for a towel. </p>
<p>Illian had to fight a blush from creeping onto his cheeks. You’d think after essentially being raised next to Arom he’d have gotten used to his nude body, but Illian had recently begun to notice a different side of Arom’s physique. How his dark hair looked against his tan skin. And how pleasing the curve of his muscles were from years of training. </p>
<p>While these thoughts had filled his head Arom had finished drying and absent-mindedly threw his towel to Illian. Illian wasn’t paying attention and the towel smacked right into his chest. Soaking him. </p>
<p>“Oh, oops. Sorry about that. But it’s kinda your fault for having your head in the clouds. Here you can borrow this.” Arom said while he walked to his closet and returned with one of his shirts. “It might be a little large, but it’s the smallest I have.”</p>
<p>Illian chose to ignore the subtle jab at his rather scrawny size and thought back to the nubs his shirt was hiding, “it’s fine, I’m almost done here and I can change when I go back to the servant’s quarters.”</p>
<p>“Don’t be stupid, you catch colds just from drinking a glass of ice water you’ll never make it back to your room, just take the shirt. I don’t mind, I promise.”</p>
<p>“No… no. I’m really fine.”</p>
<p>“Illian, just take the stupid shirt.” Arom grabbed the younger boy and made to pull off his top. Which caused Illian to immediately squirm away. </p>
<p>Arom smirked, “you know you can never beat me.” He followed Illian and within two minutes had him pinned to the floor.</p>
<p>“Are you gonna put on the god-dam shirt now?”</p>
<p>“Yes! Yes! Fine, whatever you want. Just let me change in the bathroom,” Illian exclaimed, very much aware that Arom was lying on top of him completely naked. </p>
<p>Arom raised an eyebrow, but let him go. Illian muttered a small thanks and slipped into the bathroom. </p>
<p>Once inside he took a deep breath, thankful Arom hadn’t found his wings. He picked up the shirt and looked at it, it really would completely swamp him. At least it would hide the wings well. He took off his wet shirt and was just about to put on Arom’s when…</p>
<p>“Hey, I went back to my closet and I actually found a smaller… oh my gods!”</p>
<p>Illian froze, Arom had walked in, worse Arom had seen. His heart thundered in his chest. He slowly turned around, knowing he had to think fast.</p>
<p>“Illian! Illian! Oh my gods, you’re a, you’re a blessed! This is incredible! I always knew you were special. Oh this is so great. We have to tell dad. You can have your own room now. And you’ll have to begin your lessons. I’ll need to find a new attendant but that shouldn’t be too hard. This is so great. To think we’d find a blessed right in the palace!” He paused, “hey, Illian are you okay?” he grabbed Illian, who had gone pale, by the shoulders.</p>
<p>“Huh? Oh, oh yeah. No, no I’m totally fine. Just, just a little overwhelmed. And well, I kinda wanted it to be a surprise and to have a chance to say goodbye to the other servants.” He looked Arom right in the eyes and gave him his best puppy-dog eyes, “maybe we tell everyone tomorrow? I just want one more night.”</p>
<p>Arom looked torn, Illian knew every fiber of him probably wanted to place the fragile blessed in a padded room, surrounded by dozens of guards. He could only hope the part of Arom that might still see him as the same friend he grew up with would win. </p>
<p>Arom inhaled, “Ok fine, one night. But first thing tomorrow we tell dad. Maybe I could send a guard with you tonight, just to be safe.”</p>
<p>“No, everyone would know something was up if you did that. I’ll be fine. It’s just one night. I’ll see you tomorrow.” Illian ran out of the room before Arom could change his mind. </p>
<p>He raced back to his room. Knowing what he had to do. </p>
<p>Within fifteen minutes he had packed a bag full of his life savings, a few shirts and pants, his second pair of boots, a water bottle, one thin blanket (oh how it had hurt to leave behind his soft sheets), his mother’s pendant, and a few other essentials. He threw on his coat and made his way to the outer gate.</p>
<p>It wasn’t unheard of for Arom to send Illian into the town to find him random items, so the guards easily let Illian out. If they wondered why he was going out so late they didn’t say. </p>
<p>Illian didn’t let himself think he was safe. He moved fast until he came to the capital’s train station where he bought a ticket for the farthest ride that was leaving within the hour. He didn’t let the tension release from his shoulders until he was on said train heading far away from everything he’d ever known and everyone he’d ever loved. It was then that Illian finally broke down and cried.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>One again, thank you so much for reading! Please comment or leave kudos. Or let me know if I should fix something. I make no promises, but I will try my best!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. In Hiding</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Four years later, Illian is enjoying his life in hiding. Free to make his own choices, but for how long?</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Four years later.</p><p>	Illian was careful to lock his doors and close his windows before letting his wings grow to full size and stretching them out. He was eighteen now, and had been careful for four years. Ever since leaving the capital, and the palace, and Arom. </p><p>Even in this absurdly small farming village news had reached him that the royal family was searching frantically for a blessed with wings. Three guesses who that was. </p><p>He had taken every precaution to stay hidden. He learned to change the size of his wings, which were now fully grown, and kept them shrunk and hidden under bulky clothes. He used a fake name. And didn’t even own a computer. </p><p>It was all better than the alternative, if Illian had hated the idea of being blessed when he was young. He now despised it. Now that he was an adult and had the freedom to choose what he did, where he went, and who he interacted with he couldn’t possibly imagine living the sheltered life of the blessed. Being bound to someone else and essentially becoming a fancy piece of property. No thank you!</p><p>After he had stretched he shrunk his wings and got dressed in his usual attire that was sure not to attract too much attention he grabbed a basket and headed for the woods.</p><p>When he had arrived at the village four years ago a kind, elderly, man had taken him in and taught him apothecary. It was sort of outdated, but for those within the village with limited access to hospitals and doctors the apothecary was well appreciated. </p><p>Two years after Illian met him the man passed away, leaving him the business and his home. If within those two years the man realized Illian was a blessed he never let on. Illian was eternally grateful to him. </p><p>As he walked towards the woods he went over what he needed. Mugwort, lemongrass, and poppy. </p><p>All easy enough to find.</p><p>“Correy! Where are you off to? I hope you didn’t forget about my arthritis medication.”</p><p>“Of course not Mrs. Fisher, it will be ready by this afternoon I swear.”</p><p>“Well aren’t you just perfect! What did we ever do to deserve such a sweet young man?”</p><p>Illian blushed, Correy was what everyone in town called him. He had told them he was an orphan from a nearby village looking for work, and most people had been nothing but kind to him. </p><p>He soon entered the forest and began his search. An hour later he had found almost everything he needed, but still needed more lemongrass. His mind went to the nearby cliff where he knew a large amount grew. It couldn’t be reached without wings and thus remained untouched. It was reasonably well hidden and was off the beaten path, so Illian had flown down on several occasions to pick some when he was truly desperate for ingredients or when his wings refused to stay hidden any longer. Sometimes the need to fly was so strong he couldn’t fight it. He thought about heading over, but scolded himself. It was spring there would be plenty of lemongrass if he just continued looking. No unnecessary risks, that was how he had remained hidden all these years. </p><p>Illian continued his trek, after all he enjoyed these walks with the cool breeze blowing through his hair. He did eventually find more lemongrass and was just picking what he thought would be the last he needed for a while when he heard a rustling and looked up. </p><p>A small boy had climbed high into a tree to retrieve his kite. Illian placed down his basket and smiled. The child reminded him of all the times he and Arom had climbed trees when he was young. He always got nostalgic when he remembered his childhood. He had just noticed he was getting misty eyed when he heard a crack.</p><p>He looked up to see a branch snapping, and the boy slipping. He was too high up. A fall could be deadly. Illian had no time to think, so he didn’t. He grew his wings, ripping his coat and soared up to catch the child. </p><p>He caught him with ease and reveled in the feeling of flying. It was when he felt most free, most like himself. He longed to shoot up into the sky and really stretch his wings, but instead swept to the ground and carefully lowered the child to the ground. </p><p>“Are you okay?”</p><p>The child only nodded dumbly, the poor thing was in shock. Illian knelt down to console him, but just then he heard a snap behind him and turned. </p><p>There ten feet away was a group of knights in Praenia’s royal insignia. What were they doing here? Had they found him after all these years? Illian didn’t have time to even begin to process all these questions, because one thing was for sure: they had seen his wings, which meant they knew he was blessed and would take him straight to the capital unless he acted right then. He turned back to the boy.</p><p>“Run!” </p><p>He didn’t need anything more and shot off into the forest. Illian spread out his wings and prepared to fly off, never to return.</p><p>“He’s gonna fly off!”</p><p>“What do we do?”</p><p>“We have to bring him in at any cost.”</p><p>Illian heard a whooshing sound, then felt a shooting pain in his right wing.</p><p>He screamed and fell to the floor. The world had become a blur of sounds and colors, but he knew he had to get away, so even as he crashed to the forest floor and his body screamed at him to remain still he scrambled to stand up. He put every ounce of effort he had into running off. The knights, it seemed, had not expected that and hesitated for a moment before giving chase. No doubt in shock that an injured blessed was capable of moving much less running. </p><p>“Hey, come back. Everything’s going to be okay. We promise.”</p><p>“Just come back with us and we can get you healed,” the guards shouted.</p><p>It all fell on deaf ears. Illian was in a shear panic. Everything he worked for in the past four years down the drain! If he was caught now he would never be free again. He had to keep running. </p><p>Illian was injured, he was leaving a trail of blood behind him and couldn’t retract his injured wing, so he kept crashing into the trees worsening the bleeding and increasing the number of scratches and bruises he had. Despite this, he was an even match for the knights. They may have been more experienced, but Illian had sheer adrenaline on his side. He also knew these woods like the back of his hand from four years of gathering herbs.</p><p>Illian saw a large oak and hung a right hoping to lose them in the large area covered in tall bushes that laid right in front of him. </p><p>It worked a little, he gained some distance as they lost his trail. It wouldn’t last long though, his adrenaline was wearing off. His shoulder and side screamed at him from where he had crashed into the ground. Illian wouldn’t be surprised if he had broken some bones. He winced as the wind stung his various cuts and scratches, but by far the worst pain was his right wing. He had realized now that one of the guards must have shot an arrow through his wings.</p><p>Gods, what kind of a knight carried around arrows any more? Despite himself Illian recalled Arom, he’d probably go on a long tangent about the importance of tradition and honoring the simpler way of doing things. Well that simpler way of doing things was currently impaled in his wing and Illian felt no love for it. He fought to press on even as dark spots danced in his vision. </p><p>He pressed on, but eventually one of the knights caught up to him. </p><p>“You.” He huffed. “You’re hurt… we can, haaaa, we can help. Just come with us. We don’t want to hurt you. Just please, please stop running.”</p><p>Illian continued running.</p><p>The knight cursed under his breath and pulled something from his belt.</p><p>Illian felt like every molecule in his body was struck by lightning. He fell to the floor. His body finally failed him. A taser, he realized belatedly, he almost laughed at the irony as his vision went dark and two of the knights came over to pick him up.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I was gonna only post the preludes tonight, but I realized you kinda need the first real chapter to get a sense for the setup of the plot.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. In the King's Chambers</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Illian wakes up in the King's Chambers.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>The guards must have drugged him because Illian did not wake once on his ride back to the capital. He vaguely recalled certain sensations infultrating his dreams, but never enough to wake him. Hushed conversions, gentle hands, someone treating his various wounds, and being moved to several locations. Now, however, everything was very still and very silent. Illian felt himself reaching a level of consciousness he hadn’t since blacking out in the forest and for a moment forgot all about the past days’ events and simply wondered why his sheets were so soft. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>A dull throbbing all along the right half of his body and a sharp pain in his wing jogged his memory. He squeezed his eyes shut. As long as his eyes were shut he could pretend that it had all been a dream. When he opened them and saw the interior of the palace he hadn’t seen for four years he would have to admit it had all been real and that his life was over. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Illian?” a soft voice whispered. “Are you waking up?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Shit, he must have been more obvious than he thought, but Illian recognized that voice. That was the voice that would tease him for his gangly limbs, would patiently correct his sword-stance, would tell jokes while its owner slipped him some cookies when he was sick in bed. That was Prince Arom. After four years he had found him. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Illian,” Arom pleaded “please open your eyes.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Illian steeled himself, this wouldn’t be the Arom he knew. He had to be, what, twenty-two now? A young adult. Already Illian could tell something had changed; had their relationship been what it once was Arom would have simply ordered him to stop being such a drama queen and to wake up, but now he sat patiently rubbing his hand and asking him gently to wake up.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He saw Illian as a blessed. A priceless pet to be coddled and adored but never respected. Never to have the same level of equality that, even as a servant, Illian and Arom had once shared. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He took a deep breath and Illian opened his eyes. The room was dark, the curtains drawn and the lights dimmed, but it still stung his eyes and made him dizzy. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Hey, there you are!” Arom was smiling down at him like he hung the stars. He looked similar to how he had at eighteen: the same dark hair, tan skin, well built frame, dark eyes, his face was perhaps a little older but still held that charming spark Illian had always loved. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Are you feeling okay? Does anything hurt?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Illian almost scoffed, yes something hurt. Namely the gaping wound in his wing where the knights had casually shot him! That, along with his other injuries, however had already been tended to. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Illian already felt dizzy from the light and what he believed were pain meds and he wasn’t in any rush to be given more. So he simply shook his head. Not trusting his voice quite yet. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“That’s good.” Arom stroked his head and rubbed circles into his palm, “you really scared me you know, running away in the middle of the night. I thought you had been kidnapped, but then we found the footage of you getting onto the train… still I never thought it’d take four years to find you.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Illian wondered how hard Arom must have worked in that time. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Arom stopped for a moment, he looked like he was thinking hard about his next words.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Hey Illian…” he took a breath, “I’m sorry. What happened, then, it was all my fault. If you can try and forgive me, I promise I’ll make it up to you.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Illian was confused, his drug addled mind couldn’t find the meaning behind Arom’s words. Was he? Was he actually apologizing for the kidnapping? </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Before, you were probably so scared and confused. And I just let you walk off. I knew you were acting different, but I was too stupid to see what you were planning. But I found you now, you don’t have to be afraid. I’m gonna protect you. I swear.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Of course. Arom had already come up with his own reasons for why Illian ran away, and nothing Illian said would change his mind. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Illian tried to push himself up but his right arm buckled.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Arom was quick to catch him. He carefully placed Illian’s back on some pillows so he was sitting up. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re gonna have to be careful for a while, you really did a number on yourself.” He tried for a smile. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Illian glared, </span>
  <em>
    <span>he</span>
  </em>
  <span> had done nothing to his wing to his side. It was the overzealous</span>
  <em>
    <span> knights</span>
  </em>
  <span> who essentially hunted him, and the whole system which, Illian had to remind himself, Arom was a part of that had caused the hole in his wing and the bruising up his side.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Arom pressed on, ignoring his glare. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We cleaned your wing, and put some stitches in. You bruised some ribs and fractured your wrist, but that should all heal cleanly so long as we’re careful.” He said more but Illian tuned him out, choosing instead to look around the room. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>It was bigger than he was expecting. Bigger than even Arom’s chambers had been four years ago. He was in the largest bed he had ever seen, covered in deep red velvet, silk sheets, and furs. His entire wing span fit comfortably across the mattress. It was on a raised platform that lifted two feet above the rest of the room. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He felt a chill where the blankets no longer covered his chest and looked down to a thin, almost sheer top, made out of a soft material that was colored a magnificent shade of turquoise. No doubt his bottoms would match.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Illian looked up and out to a large circular balcony. Covered in trees and bright plants to give shade along with various cushioned chairs and low tables. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>To either side of the balcony were huge windows, beneath which were smaller nooks. Well not quite small, as each was larger than Illian’s entire house. One nook held what looked like an office with a large wooden desk and towering bookshelves. The other held a sitting area; full of plush pillows, couches, and tables. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The walls were covered in intricate tapestries and to Illian’s right he saw two doors he assumed led to the baths and a closet. Both of which were most likely just as large and opulent as the main room. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Why was he in such a huge room? Whose bedroom was even this large? When his mind finally caught up with his eyes a cold chill traveled up his spine. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The only room this large would be the King’s chambers. He, an injured blessed, had been placed in the King’s bed in clothes so thin he might as well be naked. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>There was only one reason that would happen. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>This was worse than he had ever imagined. To marry a man more than three times his age! Who already had two wives! He felt his pulse quicken and felt bile rise in his throat as his head throbbed. No, gods no! Why was this happening to him? With these injuries it would be weeks before he could even attempt to escape, he couldn’t live like this! His breaths came quicker, but none seemed to bring him oxygen. The room spun. Tears welled up in his eyes.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Illian! Illian! Come on, </span>
  <em>
    <span>snap out of it!</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He smelled musty pine and ozone, along with freshly turned dirt. It reminded him of the forest. The smell seemed to crowd his senses and enter his mind. Smothering the whirl of thoughts within with a warm fuzzy feeling. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Everything seemed to slow to a crawl, the command sunk into his very bones as his body immediately obeyed, sending a seeping feeling through him that moved slowly from his stomach out to his arms and legs and ended the trembling he hadn’t even noticed. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Good, good. That’s better. You’re ok. Everything’s gonna be fine. Just relax.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>No, everything wouldn’t be okay. Something… something was horribly wrong, but Illian couldn’t remember what. His thoughts couldn’t pierce the fog that had settled in his head. All he could focus on was the forest smell, the calming voice, and how tired he had suddenly become.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Hadn’t he just woken up? A little voice whispered that this wasn’t normal and that he should be scared; yet those feelings just wouldn’t surface. What he did notice was how heavy his limbs felt, how warm the blankets were. How comforting the smell of forest was.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“That’s it. Don’t fight it. You’re tired. Just close your eyes. You’re safe with me.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Whatever resistance Illian had melted away as a new wave of calm sunk into his bones. Pooling behind his eyes and making them feel as if they were made of lead. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He sunk down into the pillows and furs, the warm buzzing in his head continued as he fell quickly into a deep slumber. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>------------------------------------------------------------------------------</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Hey, Illian. Let’s try and wake up now.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The pine and ozone smell returned, but instead of making his head feel like it was full of cotton and his limbs full of water it roused him. The pine scent was sharper and went through his nose to clear out any foggy feeling. He was pulled quickly from his dreamless sleep back to the King’s chambers, yet he felt completely awake as if he had just chugged four shots of espresso. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Good Morning Sleeping Beauty. I’m sorry to wake you, but you really should try and eat something.” Arom held up a bowl full of porridge up for Illian to see. He placed it on the side table, and without asking hoisted Illian up. Being careful of his injuries. He placed him in a sitting position propped up on some pillows.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Comfy?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Illian didn’t trust himself to speak and simply nodded. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Arom smiled, and held up a spoonful of porridge for Illian. Being fed was just about the only thing that could make his situation anymore demeaning, but given that he couldn’t move his right side Illian chose to suck it up and open his mouth. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s a little bland, but once you’re feeling better you can eat whatever you want. Do you still like butter cookies?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Illian didn’t really feel like discussing the up-sides of his imprisonment and chose to take the next spoonful rather than responding. The porridge was actually quite good, creamy and warm. Nothing like Illian was used to eating. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I know you’re not having a lot of fun right now. When you’re better you’ll be able to move around a lot more, and once we get married we can go on excursions outside the palace together.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Illian nearly choked at those words, his eyes blew wide open.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m marrying… you’re going to be my… uh.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Of course, we’ll be married. Did you think I’d let anyone else have you?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The casual way Arom discussed owning him made the pit of Illian’s stomach grow cold, but he couldn’t focus on that now. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Then why am I in the King’s chambers?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh wow, did you not know? Gods, Illian, have you been living under a rock? It’s been nearly a year since my coronation and we certainly didn’t keep it a secret. I thought the whole country knew.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Honestly, Illian had tried his hardest to avoid any news from the palace. He didn’t like how confused it made him about how he should feel and how he should view his old life. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh, um in that case I’m very sorry about your loss.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Always so considerate. Aren’t you? I appreciate your condolences, but I finished my mourning. It was his time.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh, that’s… um that’s…” Illian didn’t know how to finish that sentence. Once again using the porridge held up for him as an escape. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Logically, he knew this was better. Arom was closer to his own age, and they had been good friends. Marrying Arom was probably the best fate he could hope for now that he had been captured. Yet he couldn’t bring himself to be happy or even relieved. Arom was like a brother to him. Illian could never see him as a husband. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>But he was a blessed and Arom a royal, he realized. They wouldn’t just be married. They would be bonded. He would actually belong to Arom. They'd do a lot more than the innocent touching Arom was already subjecting him to. A thought that made every hair on his body stand up and the next spoonful of porridge look far less appealing. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Arom frowned as the spoon he held up was ignored.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Full, huh?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Illian nodded.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Let’s try a little more, four more bites.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Illian didn’t even have time to think before his body snapped up to comply, immediately taking the next spoonful, even though it made his stomach lurch in protest. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Arom was using his dominance on him. Using his pheromones to give orders Illian would never be able to disobey. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>It was horrifying.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Illian had always known Arom had this ability, afterall all royals did. But when they were young Arom had never used it on him. Even though it would work on an average person just fine. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Any royal could use their pheromones, dominance, and voice to give commands. Their strength depended on the royal’s will power and natural ability. The commands were strongest against blessed, who had no hope of disobeying; they worked fairly well on the average people; and between two royals the one with stronger dominance would win out. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>When they were young Arom would teasingly order him and would wrestle him to the floor if he refused, but he had never used his dominance on him. Illian had thought of it as a sign of respect and true friendship. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Now that was completely gone. Arom commanded him with his dominance without blinking an eye, giving no thought to his wishes. Why would he? Afterall Illian was a blessed. Their opinions didn’t matter and commanding them for their “own good” was sickeningly common. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Illian finished his four bites and turned away from the spoon, practically green. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Alright, guess you’re done. Good job.” Arom placed the bowl down and rubbed his uninjured wing. “You know, you’ve really become so beautiful, Illian. During all these years I never thought your wings would become quite so brilliant.” He continued to run his thumb along the edge of the wing, his eyes admired the bright white feathers. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The sensation felt strange and foreign to Illian, he’d never shown his wings to anyone before. To now have them stroked in such a way gave him a strange indefinable feeling. Most of him knew to be repulsed, he was practically being appraised by someone who saw themselves as his new owner. But a small part of him that he cursed, yearned to be comforted. To melt into the touch. To be a good blessed for his King.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>That was what was most horrifying, these thoughts weren’t his own. Is this how every blessed felt? Having one part of themselves fight the rest of their mind until one side gave out? </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“You’ve grown taller and leaner too, a perfect blessed.” Arom was still caressing his wing, now running his hand along the back.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever met, when we get married you’ll be a grand symbol to all of Praenia. The gods must truly smile down on us to give us a blessed like you. I’ll treasure you. I promise, I’m going to make you so happy, Illian.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Yes, that was right. He was to marry Arom. Arom was convinced they would have some sort of loving relationship. While the blessed side of him warmed at the idea the rest of him knew he had to escape somehow, but he was hurt. He couldn’t fly, couldn’t shrink his wings to hide them, probably could barely walk, not to mention he was surrounded by hundreds of guards who would never let him simply walk out. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>But he had to leave, the life of a blessed was not an option for him, and if he actually did bond with Arom, with the King, he would never be allowed to leave. It was a long shot, but he had to try. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Illian took a deep breath. He readjusted himself on the pillows, gritting his teeth through the ache in his ribs.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Arom..." he took a breath "I want to go back. I had a life there: friends, a job, a home. I can’t stay here. I don’t want to.” He kept his head down to avoid the other’s gaze.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The statement put an end to Arom’s cheery mode from discussing their future. He pursed his lips and looked at Illian, considering his next words.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The pine forest scent changes slightly. The ozone smell became stronger, like right before a thunderstorm. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Arom was angry. Probably not at Illian, but at the thought of letting him go. Nevertheless, the scent of an angry royal put Illian on edge.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Arom must have noticed this; he leaned over and took his uninjured, left, wrist and began rubbing circles into the back of his hand. Shifting his scent into something meant to comfort Illian.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I know you’re probably homesick, but this is your home now. You’re back where you belong. Lot’s of blessed are scared when they first come. Just wait until you warm up to the idea, then you’ll love it here. I know you will.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He moved his hands to Illian’s cheeks and held his head so that Illian couldn’t look away. The pine scent continued to leak into his senses to try and calm him, but Illian refused to give in. He needed to make Arom understand. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“And once we’ve bonded all this anxiety will go away. Blessed are meant to be bonded, it's not good for them to be left without a partner.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m fine, I’ve been fine for four years. I don’t want to live like this.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The scent grew stronger, and Illian’s limbs began to go limp. Arom was trying very hard to make him less tense. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m sorry, I can’t let you leave. These past years were dumb luck. Praenia’s enemies would love to find a blessed, alone. To use them to threaten and mock our country. It’s a threat to your life. To let you go back would be irresponsible as your King, mate, and friend. Please trust me Illian.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>His voice was very soft and genuine, like he was pleading with him. He rubbed his thumbs in his hair and continued with the scent.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I know it’s a big adjustment, just focus on getting better now. By the time you’re healed this will all seem more normal. Ok?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Illian opened his mouth to respond, but there was a knock at the door. He would have to try and convince him later.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Come in!” Arom called. Then, turning to Illian “I called for a doctor to take a look at you, again.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The doctor entered and introduced himself to Illian who gave little attention to the man as he explained what he was doing and asked questions, mostly only sparing one word answers. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He was too busy considering the way his conversation with Arom had gone. He hadn’t really expected to be successful in convincing him on his first try, but the knowledge that he’d have to convince someone so dead set or try his luck in escaping did not make him feel comfortable. Despite the calming scent that Arom was still releasing. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Only when the physician started to unwrap his right wing did he give him his full attention to the man. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Even the air hitting it stung, and Illian flinched his wing back which only added to his pain.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Sorry about that, but this salve will help the wound from getting infected and will numb the pain a little.” to his credit the physician did look legitimately remorseful at having to hurt Illian, who timidly extended his wing for the man again. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>After reapplying the rest of his bandages with more salve, and only minimal discomfort. He looked at his ribs and wrist. He gently ran his fingers along the bruising and took note of its coloring. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s hard to tell after only a day, but these do seem to be healing about as fast as we can hope considering how deep they are. Maybe seven weeks for your ribs, and ten for your wrist give or take. As for your wing, that’s a fairly rare trait amongst blessed, so we’ll have to see, but if I had to guess it should be mostly healed around the time your wrist is mended. Of course even then you’ll need physical therapy to be able to write and fly properly.” He turned to Arom and continued, “I’d recommend you make sure he gets some sun, at least an hour a day, that he eats properly, I’ll send some medication once I return to my office.” He got up from the bed and continued to discuss with Arom, away from Illian’s earshot. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Illian wasn’t exactly surprised by the assessment, he’d known his injuries would take a while to heal, but ten weeks. Illian wasn’t sure if he could handle this treatment for that long. He had only met two people and they had talked down to him as if he was incapable of thinking for himself.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Arom and the doctor finished their discussion, the doctor left with a quick bow to Arom and Arom returned to the side of the bed. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“We’re gonna keep you on pain meds, and mostly sitting and in bed until you heal more, then we can see about trying some short walks, that’ll be fun right?” He practically cooed. Was Illian supposed to be grateful he would be allowed to walk around the gardens surrounded by dozens of guards? He chose to give no reaction to Arom’s words. “Tomorrow we can try sitting outside for a while, I think you’ll really like the balcony. He’ll send over some anxiety pills with the rest…”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Wait what, why are you giving me anxiety pills?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re obviously stressed about this whole situation, these will help until you get used to your new life. Then, when you start to get more comfortable we can ease you off.” He rubbed Illian’s cheek and released more scent.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Illian regretted trying to reason with Arom, but he was also beginning to lose the battle against the lulling effects of the scent he kept releasing. He leaned back into the pillows and allowed his limbs to fall heavy under the covers.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>A light knock sounded from the door.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Enter.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>A servant walked in and whispered something to Arom, who turned to Illian and rubbed his head.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“They need me in the throne room for a while, I’ll be back soon. I will send some servants in, they’ll get you whatever you want. Just send one to me if you want me to come back.” He leaned over and kissed Illian’s forehead.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Be good!”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>And like that, he was gone. Replaced by three servants, and probably a dozen guards outside the room. Illian doubted he would ever leave him unsupervised again. </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. In the Blessed's Wing</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Who's ready for a POV switch?</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Arom did not want to leave the room, in fact, it was just about the last thing he wanted to do. Nonetheless, Erica, the servant who had come to fetch him, had assured him it was important and she was never one to exaggerate. She was to the point, pragmatic, and loyal. That’s why Arom liked her. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>As she followed him towards the throne room she explained how the ambassadors sent from Amfrus and the viscount he’d chosen were having trouble working out a new trade agreement between the two countries. It seemed that the ambassadors were now threatening to leave with no deal if their terms wouldn’t be accepted. Which, yes, would be a bit of a problem. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Their terms, however, were insane. No restrictions on their “medicinal” herbs! Absolutely ridiculous! They were glorified drugs, only good for inducing hallucinations and destroying minds. Arom had seen their effects enough times to know. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Arom turned into the throne room from the back entrance, only open to himself and those he permitted. He made his way to the throne which was set on top of a raised platform. It allowed him to look down on those who entered even while he sat and they stood. This combined with the deep red velvet covering the throne and its platform, the large tapestries depicting intense battle scenes, the gold accenting all around the room, and the sheer size of the enormous hall had quite an intimidating effect on those who entered. So much so that Arom often chose smaller, more personal chambers for his meetings. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>But the ambassadors of Amfrus had crossed Arom and he had no intention of making them comfortable. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He took his seat and motioned for the guards to allow the ambassadors and his own viscount in. The latter of whom shuffled in, hands trembling, looking rather pale; but by all counts, he had failed and his attitude was therefore appropriate. The ambassadors, however, had the gall to act confident as if they had merely been invited to tea. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>That would have to change. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Arom lounged, leaning back, arms carelessly flopped on armrests. He scanned the four men in front of him. Eyes resting just long enough to give each his personal attention without giving off the impression that he actually cared about the situation in the slightest. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“So, there seems to be a problem with the negotiations for the trade deal?” Arom practically yawned as he finished the sentence.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A brave ambassador stepped forward. “Well, Your Majesty surely you can understand that Amfrus cannot simply lower our tariffs so drastically if Praenia insists on such strict laws regarding our medicinal herbs.” He flashed a greasy smile and bowed as he stepped back. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Arom kept his smile cool and his posture bored but inside he seethed. The ambassadors considered him weak because of his age. That he would roll over if they only stood their ground.  </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Arom sat up straighter and looked straight at the one who had stepped forward. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“That’s funny, because the way I understand it, Amfrus relies on Praenia a lot more than the other way around. We supply a great deal of your food, after all. I would think you would be a lot more interested in making this deal work. It would just be awful if, as a result of these negotiations failing, Praenia revoked Amfrus’ special treatment. Having to pay those prices on our exports would surely kill a good number of your people.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>That made the ambassadors pale. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It also didn’t hurt that Arom had used his dominance as he said the words. Not enough to cause an international incident, but enough to make his position quite clear. And the once proud group shiver where they stood.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“</span>
  </em>
  <span>Your Highness, let's not be too quick. I’m sure we can work out something that pleases everyone.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“I’m sure.” </span>
  </em>
  <span>Arom gave the man a smile of his own, it didn’t reach his eyes in the slightest. </span>
  <em>
    <span>“Unfortunately you have pulled me away from some very important personal matters, so let’s make this quick.” </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>His smile was gone now, and he put the slightest bit more power into his voice.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Amfrus will lower all of the tariffs as we have requested and in exchange Praenia will continue to sell to your country at the same reduced prices and will allow Amfrus to export medicinal herbs here with limitations on how much can enter the country and how much each citizen can purchase. The implementation of these restrictions will be overseen by my own government. Have I made myself clear, ambassadors?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yes, yes, Your Majesty. That will… uh… Amfrus would be… be pleased to accept these, these conditions. Shall we put this into writing Viscount Belran?” The quivering man was quick to squawk out an answer and clearly wanted to flee. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“That sounds wonderful, I’m happy we could work out a deal.” Arom turned away from the ambassador. “Viscount, be sure to let me know if there is any more trouble. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Not that I expect any from my friends here</span>
  </em>
  <span>.” With a snap of his fingers, the King sent the men out. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Once they had left he leaned back and rubbed his head. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Why do they always think they can trick me? I’ve been doing this for nearly a year, surely word would have spread that I am not to be crossed?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well, I doubt Amfrus will be trying anything anytime soon,” Erica spoke up from where she had been standing against the wall of the chamber. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“True, I thought that one guy was gonna piss himself,” that was Rube Penn. Captain of the Royal Guard and a good friend to Arom. He had been standing by the main entrance to the room and had closed the doors behind the fleeing men of Amfrus. He barely contained a chuckle with his words. “But there are far more important things to discuss. How is the famous Illian I’ve heard so much about?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>That got Arom to smile behind his hand which rubbed his forehead. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“That little angel. It’s like a dream, having him back. And he’s more perfect than I could have imagined. You should see him, his wings have become just huge and they’re pure white. He’s the most perfect blessed I’ve ever seen. He’ll be a perfect mate; he just has to warm up to the idea first. The poor thing’s a little overwhelmed.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Awww, the little dear.” Erica purred. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It’s no shock he’s scared. I was with you when they told you he’d been found. That look in your eyes. I thought you’d jump him the second he got back!” Rube leaned back against the door.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I might’ve, had those idiotic knights not have butchered him. A hole! An actual hole in his wing! Who would ever treat a blessed that way?” Arom seethed.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Were they punished?” Erica asked.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No, they did bring him in after all. No one else had managed to do that. I chose to let it all go.” Arom’s tone cooled slightly. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well, your work has piled up in your absence. The ministers are begging for your return. So I’m sure you’re off to Illian’s bedside once again to dote and swoon.” Rube teased.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“That’s about right, but I think I’ll stop by the blessed’s wing and get something to keep Illian busy.” Arom rose from his seat and headed towards the back entrance, followed by Erica. While Rube headed out the main entrance to attend to other duties. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>------------------------------------------------------------------------------------</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The walk to the blessed’s wing was long. It was purposely as far away from the throne and other business rooms as possible. There was no need to keep the blessed anywhere near where they might be troubled by harsh words or meet up with foreigners who wouldn’t treat the blessed with the appropriate softness. No, it best to keep the blessed secluded to their own rooms and gardens when they weren’t with their mates or were yet to be claimed. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>While Arom walked he considered Illian’s words. Erica tactfully remained silent as he thought.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Illian was worse than he had hoped for. He had actually asked to leave. After all Arom had done to find him he actually wanted to leave! </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The poor thing was so confused. What had he filled his head with during those four years? A job? Living outside the palace? Outside the capital? Being unmated? And he thought he would be safe like that? </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>This was exactly why blessed needed to live as they did because they didn’t know what was best for themselves. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Arom shuddered at the thought of what may have happened to his beloved had he not been found. Too many scenarios kept entering his mind, each more horrifying than the last. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Arom scolded himself and shoved those thoughts aside. They had found Illian, he was safe, and Arom would never lose him again. He had to focus on how best to use his good fortune and not torture himself with what-ifs. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Arom had always loved Illian. He may not have recognized the feeling as a child, but it was definitely there. He only became more aware of it in Illian’s absence. He had always had a deep desire to protect the smaller boy who seemed so fragile. Now that he had returned as the blessed who would be his mate the desire to protect became an all-encompassing need. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Never before had he felt such an intense, burning, urge to please and to protect another. It drove him crazy to have to go against his angel’s desires to protect him, but it was necessary and he would do it until Illian realized what was best. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Simply looking down at the boy as he laid in bed had been the most fulfilled Arom had felt in four years. He knew they were meant to be a pair and he would do everything in his power to please and protect his mate. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>---------------------------------------------------------------------------</span>
</p><p>
  <span>With one last turn, he and Erica entered the hall that held the entrance to the blessed’s wing. Although the wing was huge and opened out to vast, sprawling, gardens where the blessed were free to roam, it only had one entrance. The gardens were surrounded by high walls from which guards could look down and patrol but also kept the blessed’s gardens separate from the other outdoor areas and held no exits. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It was a security measure. With only one way in or out who entered and exited the wing could be carefully monitored and controlled which helped ensure the blessed remained safe. The entrance was surrounded by guards who all bowed as their King approached. Of course, the inside also held guards and attendants to keep the blessed safe along with more security cameras and alarms than in any other part of the castle. Praenia would provide nothing less for her most precious subjects. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The guards opened the large doors made of mahogany and accented in gold. Arom and Erica entered the grand hall. Arom was careful to conceal any scent not wanting to spook the darlings. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Arom rarely entered the blessed’s wing. Of course, as the King, he would have the first pick out of all the blessed. He had even been offered two in the past. Once when he was a prince and once while he was King. He had rejected both. He had waited for Illian. It could only ever have been Illian. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Because he rarely saw it he was always amazed by the beauty and elegance of the wing. He currently stood in the main hall, a spacious sitting area for the blessed to socialize and rest. Covered in pillows and sofas along with screens and other items to keep them occupied. On either side lay doors that led to more sitting rooms, a dining area, a library, rooms for the blessed’s education, and various other rooms designed to ensure every blessed was as well cared for as possible. A grand staircase along the back wall led to a second story. That was where the unclaimed blessed stayed before they found mates. It also held a medical bay in case any blessed was injured or became ill. The back wall also held the entrance to the blessed’s private gardens. A huge area kept in pristine condition during all seasons to allow the blessed to stretch their legs and enjoy the sun. Being in nature was good for the little dears. The sun did wonders for their health and the fresh air cleared their minds. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Arom remembered that the doctor had recommended Illian spend some time outside as well. Perhaps he could find a game for the two to play while on his balcony. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>For now, he turned into the library, it was also beautiful and large. It held many books that covered subjects that were sure to keep the blessed happy. Simple and pleasant fantasy novels and basic science texts lined the shelves along with the other books. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Arom selected a novel about brave adventurers who sailed the seas and encountered grand challenges and rewards along the way. It was the exact sort of thing Illian had loved while young. As he gathered more books he wondered if Illian would be able to read them. He had been taught basic skills like reading and writing when he was younger, but he may have forgotten while away. He never was the best student. Arom smiled at the thought of a young Illian, forehead scrunched and pen in a death grip as he copied down lines. Whether he could still read hardly mattered as he could have a servant read for as long as was necessary. He would also be given the education all blessed received. However, he was starting about four years later than most of the others who were taken to the palace when their traits emerged around the age of fourteen. If necessary, Arom would have to arrange private lessons where Illian would learn how to read and write along with skills in art and music. There would be no need for classes in history or politics, such teachings would only distress a blessed and pollute their mind with unhappy thoughts. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He handed some of the books he had found to Erica and made his way towards the exit. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Heading back to his room, back to Illian, to his soon to be mate felt right. Every molecule in his body told him to return to protect his angel. To scoop him into his arms and to never let go. </span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Posting this a little later than I had hoped, sorry. I had a ton to do this week and could not find the energy to edit.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Introductions</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Illian meets a possible ally.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Illian watched as Arom exited the room. Before he was even out the door three servants entered, they must have been waiting outside. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Two women and a man, each in the palace uniform. They introduced themselves as Cecily, Sibil, and Lewin. Then they bowed and stood at the edge of the room; it seemed that they were perfectly content to stand there watching him, ~which wasn’t creepy at all~. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Was this how palace servants were meant to act? Because Illian would never have just stood there when he was Arom’s attendant. It was borderline unnatural. The way they smiled and stared directly at him. As if at any moment he might slip away for another four years and their constant gazes were the only way to prevent it. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>This combined with the fact that Illian was wearing such revealing clothes made him extremely uncomfortable. He felt like a specimen on display. He pulled the covers up and turned to face away from the servants. That is, he turned as far as he could without disturbing his wing which laid extended on its own pile of pillows. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He had slept enough that day, so rather than closing his eyes, he pondered his situation. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He could try to escape, but the hole in his wing would keep him from shrinking them or flying for quite some time and although his injuries only registered as dull aches at that moment he knew that without pain medication he would be in agony. No doubt moving on his own would also be a problem. Not to mention every guard and servant in the palace was probably on high alert as not to upset their king by failing to keep Illian where he was. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It seemed that escape would have to wait until he was at least mostly healed. However, ten weeks would be challenging. He’d have to avoid being claimed by Arom the entire time. If they ever did bond then Illian would never be able to leave. He wasn’t quite sure how bonding worked, but he had heard stories of blessed going insane if their royal left for too long. Not to mention to actually be marked by Arom, it was just too strange to imagine. He loved the king as a brother and dear friend, albeit some of those tender feelings had disappeared when he was kidnapped, he could never see him as a romantic partner.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>That’s not true whispered the tiny voice in his head, you want to be claimed, you want to be protected. ‘Shut up’ he thought ‘be good’ it said back. He must have been going insane. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Doing his best to ignore the voice he focused on the issue of being bonded. Arom cared about his well-being, if he made it clear that he was too injured to handle being claimed Arom would probably back off, giving him enough time to heal and plan his next move. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But there was another problem to consider: the medication. As an apothecary, Illian had never handled anything nearly as complex as anxiety pills. He had no idea how they worked or what they would do. But any pills meant to make a blessed “less anxious” would probably be designed to make them act the way they were expected to. Calm, subdued, obedient. All things Illian needed to avoid being if he was to ever escape. However, avoiding the pills would be near impossible with the number of people watching him. Yet another issue. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Illian grit his teeth and huddled further into the mattress. He couldn’t just wallow in self-pity. He needed real solutions. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>His thoughts continued to go over what could happen next and how he could best deal with each situation until eventually, he must have dozed because he woke to the sound of voices outside the door. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Illian used all his strength to sit up, one of the female servants noticed and rushed forward to help him in the process and to arrange the pillows to keep him comfortable in the new position. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Who’s outside the door?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Lady Assan, my Lord.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Let her in.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The King has ordered you remain undisturbed.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Surely he wouldn’t oppose to a short social visit from another blessed?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The servant was clearly torn, her eyes darted between Illian and the door. The others looked equally uncomfortable. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I understand if you can’t. It’s just… I suppose it’s been distressing waking up in a new place, in pain, perhaps she could comfort me?” Illian concentrated on making himself seem small and weak. He tilted his eyes down and pulled his bottom lip in. It was a look he had perfected on Arom and his mother when he was young, hopefully, it still held the same power. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Apparently, it did. The first servant breathed a sigh and nodded at the male one who went to the door and allowed Assan and her entourage in. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She was as beautiful as Illian remembered, aged slightly, but she still had that spark in her magenta eyes. Her wrinkles and age lines only adding to her dignified demeanor. When down her violet hair must have touched her waist but she kept it in a series of braids wrapped around her head. On her elbows and neck, Illian could see the slightly raised ridges of scales that, Illian had heard, would become full fins and gills if she touched water. He supposed he would probably find similar things on her feet and hands if he looked carefully. She wore a simple white dress, cinched at the waist with some sort of fine silver chain and held together by a gold pin shaped like a rose. The dress left the area below her knees exposed which let Illian see the claiming mark that started just below her knee, it was a circle of green ivy that wrapped around her leg down to her ankle. The late king’s symbol.</span>
</p><p>
  <span> Even after his death, it remained. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Assan swept into the room with incredible grace and a small smile. She sat on the chair beside his bed which Arom had used earlier and turned to the small crowd of attendants and servants which had formed.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I don’t suppose we could get a bit of privacy? I’m sure Illian is too polite to say, but it can be a bit overwhelming, at first, to be surrounded by this many people. No matter how kind or attentive they may be” She turned her head a bit to the side and batted her eyes.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A man who dressed differently than the others held a clipboard and had followed Assan in stepped forward. “Perhaps a few could remain? We won’t get in the way, my Lady.” He must have been Assan’s attendant. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Assan’s smile curved slightly, her voice taking on a pleading characteristic. “Oh please, Percy? We won’t make any trouble. Just a little alone time. You can wait right outside the door. Surely you’ll hear if anything happens.” It seemed that the older woman was quite experienced in these negotiations because Percy sagged forward and sighed, defeated. It seemed he too was used to this behavior from his blessed.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You may have fifteen minutes, my Lady. Please call if you need anything.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh thank you, Percy! You are such a gem!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>With that, the group left and Illian was left alone with Assan who turned away from the door and fixed Illian with a look completely unlike the joyful expression she had given the others. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh, you poor thing.” Unlike the others who had called Illian similar things, Assan seemed to truly understand why he was upset and emphasized with him on the deepest level. “What have they done to you? Such brutes, the whole lot. And they act shocked when we don’t want to play their games.” She tutted and looked over Illian, seeing every bruise, scratch, and bandage. “But how are you holding up my dear?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Illian had been strong up to that point, he had kept a cool head and analyzed his situation with a detached mind, but something about her warm motherly affection and lack of any expectations broke him. He started to tear up and once the first had fallen he had no power to stop the stream. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>All the fear and frustration he held burst forth through the opening it now had. No longer kept carefully sealed away. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh, oh I know, I know. Just let it out, dear. Nothing to be ashamed of. Of course, you feel this way.” She leaned over him and placed a steadying hand on his shoulder. “Is this alright? Are you okay if I touch you?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Illian could only nod as he continued to bawl, raising his uninjured hand to wipe away the tears and snot that had collected on his face. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>For a moment Assan left and returned with some tissues and a cool wet towel which Illian accepted gratefully. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Eventually, he calmed and was able to blow his nose and use the towel on his red and blotchy eyes. “It’s just” he took in a deep breath “It’s all just so overwhelming. And they expect me to just be happy with the fact that I’m essentially a pet now.” Illian’s shoulders continued to tremble. “I don’t… I don’t know how I’m supposed to do this.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I know it’s difficult. But you’re being so strong. I saw the way you convinced the servants to let me in. You’re learning how to work the system and you’ve only been here a short while.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I am?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Absolutely, my dear. That’s how we blessed survive. Stay sane. We play the system.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, like you just did. If you show them what they want to see. Act the way they want you to. They won’t question it. They expect fragile little flowers who can’t handle the slightest problem. Act that way and it isn’t hard to convince them to give you little freedoms. Nothing extreme, but enough. Trust me, I’ve been doing this for decades.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So… so if I play along they’ll extend my leash?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s about right. It’s not perfect but it helps. And of course, if you ever need to talk I’m quite the expert in arranging alone time.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It seems like you really exhaust that attendant of yours.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Assan laughed, “Yes, Percy is quite good to me. I lucked out getting him. Even if I do wear him out.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Illian considered his next words. Assan seemed trustworthy, but how would she react to what he was planning? </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He tried to compose himself, sniffling and taking deep breaths. Attempting to calm down enough to say what he had to. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Once he felt a little calmer he leaned more towards Assan and lowered his voice. “If I tell you something can you swear not to tell another soul, even if it's insane?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Assan nodded.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ok, this is totally crazy. But, I’ve been… I’ve started to think about.” he took another breath, choosing to push the words out in a quickly whispered outburst, “what if I tried to escape? I just don’t think I can do this, Assan. I understand that you have, but, but I think… if, if I stay, I might die. I might actually die.” Or at least that’s the way it felt. Like he would choke to death on the suffocating atmosphere that now surrounded his whole life, every moment, not even letting him escape in his dreams. His blessed characteristics made him instinctively want to fly free, yet they were used to justify keeping him caged like an exotic bird. “I don’t know how I’d do it or if it’s even possible. But I know I have to at least try.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It felt good to finally say the words out loud. Like telling someone else made them more than just the vague promises they had been in his head.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Assan listened intently. She allowed Illian to say all that he needed to. Then she pursed her lips and nodded. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I understand how you feel, you are not the first blessed to think of escaping. I assure you that I will not tell a soul what you have said today, nor will I try to stop you, but I must warn you: as far as I know no blessed has ever escaped. For a while there you were the only one. I’d imagine one or two must have slipped through the cracks and never been found, but of those brought to the castle their fate is mostly sealed.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>This wasn’t new knowledge to Illian but hearing it laid out so clearly still felt like a punch to the gut and took away from the catharsis of telling Assan about his plan. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“However,” Assan continued, “I will help you in whatever way I can if you choose to go through with this goal.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>That made Illian light up. He looked back at Assan, “really?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Of course, my dear. But I warn you if you do try and escape and don’t manage to succeed it will be very hard to convince them you are a meek, little, blessed again. Being a two-time offender and all.” Assan’s voice was nothing but kind and loving.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Illian leaned forward and hugged Assan who immediately reciprocated. “Thank you, thank you.” Illian couldn’t decide if he should sob or laugh, so he did both while still trying to maintain a low volume. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She patted his back and smoothed his hair until he had calmed down again. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m crying an awful lot today.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sometimes, we need to cry. No shame in that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She was so kind and understanding. Letting Illian talk and giving only love and genuine advice in return. She reminded him of his mother, which warmed him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>They remained like that for a while, until far too soon a knock came from the door and Percy popped his head in.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s been twenty minutes my Lady. Perhaps we should leave Lord Illian to rest?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Assan released him with one final squeeze, whispered in his ear that she would be back. Then got up and followed Percy out. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lewin, Cecily, and Sibil now returned. This time Illian didn’t have to fake sleep when he turned away and closed his eyes. His meeting with Assan having thoroughly knocked him out. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>When Illian next woke it was by his own power. He tried to close his eyes again but after ten minutes he realized attempting more sleep was pointless. Instead, he shifted slightly so that he was mostly flat on his back. His left-wing laid partly under his torso and the rest wrapped around his chest to give him more warmth, it was how he usually kept both his wings while asleep. His right-wing was fully extended. It was placed on top of a pillow which forced Illian’s shoulder into an uncomfortable position, but a stiff shoulder was better than the pain he’d face if he dared reposition his wing so he endured. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>With absolutely nothing to do Illian looked up at the mural painted on the ceiling. Unlike the tapestries which showed human scenes of wars, celebrations, and hunting the ceiling was a celestial design that showed a beautifully intricate and detailed map of various stars and planets. It was surprisingly bright, covered with various jewels, and accented in silver and gold. The planets were all painted in bright shades and even the background showed more stars and galaxies rather than being black. Illian could almost picture Arom drifting to sleep looking at the “night sky”. After all, when they were young Arom had pointed out various constellations and astrological objects to him whenever they stayed out long enough for the sun to sink past the horizon.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They were pleasant memories. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Once, they had stayed out late during one of the nights where the air had just begun to cool. The servants and Illian’s mother had come to retrieve them but the King had been away so a bold twelve-year-old Arom had ordered them to leave them be. He had been quite proud of himself and Illian would be lying if he said he wasn’t slightly impressed with the power his friend held. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>These feelings changed when Illian developed a cough and fever the next day. It had wracked Arom with guilt and he had apologized profusely the next day to both him and his mother. He even got the kitchens to make some of Illian’s favorite butter cookies which had made the whole experience more than worth it to Illian. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Illian chuckled, gods imagine if he had been blessed back then. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>These thoughts were interrupted by the door swinging open. Only one person had the authority to enter without knocking and he had the biggest grin on his face as he came towards Illian. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I brought you something!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Illian eyed the books Arom held, “Whatever could it be?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Novels!”, Arom grinned, completely ignoring the sarcasm in Illian’s tone, “Straight from the blessed’s library, you’ll love them. All very exciting.” He placed his pile on the nightstand while the servant girl who had come to get him earlier placed her’s on an open shelf in the room’s office. Arom picked up the top book of his pile and showed Illian the cover which showed a grand ship on the open ocean. The sails were full of wind and a character leaned over the bow of the boat as water splashed on his face. “I think you’ll like this one, it's about these friends who explore the seas. Plenty of sword fights, I checked. Can you still read? If not the…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Of course I can read! Gods, I used to be an apothecary people put their health in my hands! They depended on me reading prescriptions and recipes well.” Illian had taken a lot of shame these past few days but even when young he had been proud of his intelligence. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s good, you can enjoy these then, and that’s one less thing for the tutors to worry about when you’re feeling well enough for lessons.” Arom was completely calm in the face of Illian’s indignation, somehow that made it worse. “An apothecary, huh, you always were special. But now you won’t have to worry about the stresses that job must have caused, you are a blessed after all.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>That almost got Illian to crack and to curse out the King, but he remembered Assan’s advice and chose to keep a cool demeanor in the room full of people. He took a deep breath, “I suppose that’s true.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>That got Arom to smile, although he tried to hide it with a cough. Then he continued.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The guards told me Assan visited. Was that nice? She’s always been so kind, I’d like it if you two became close. Having some friends amongst the blessed may be good for you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>That meant that Arom would allow Assan to visit more! That could be useful. It was almost humorous to see Arom so happy about something he would hate had he had the full picture. Assan had agreed to help Illian, the more they could meet the better. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Illian gave Arom a grin and a slight blush, the perfect blessed look “I think I’d like that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Arom ran his hand along Illian’s left-wing and smiled, “Then I’ll make sure you two meet more. Why don’t you rest some more? I will just do some paperwork in the corner office.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Illian chose to sit up and start on the novel instead. He always had enjoyed adventure stories. It was nice to read about far-off lands and completely free people. If for only a moment it allowed him to close his eyes and imagine flying over open seas under a clear blue sky not caged but free. </span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I've been having so much fun writing this. Thank you so much for the comments and kudos! I know I should just write for myself, but they honestly make me so happy and make me feel like I might actually be writing something that's like OK?</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. In Recovery</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>A few scenes over a few weeks showing Illian's recovery.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>The rest of the day passed quite uneventfully. The servant girl, Erica, Illian learned she was named left and returned a few times with stacks of papers and letters for Arom who spent the day at his desk. Only rising to occasionally stretch and annoy Illian by pulling him away from the first activity he had actually enjoyed today to ask stupid questions and attempt to make pointless conversation. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Compared to the first half of the day it was actually somewhat enjoyable. Aside from Arom’s interruptions, the book was pleasant and entertaining. So much so that by the time the sun began sinking and Sibil and Lewin entered the room with food he was near the end. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Upon seeing the two enter Arom got up and Illian placed his book down. He wasn’t pleased to see Arom taking the spoon and bowl meaning that he would once again be spoon-fed, but the soup looked good and he wasn’t going to risk his performance for a single injustice. He would have to face many more before he was able to leave. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>So he took the spoonfuls without complaint; occasionally taking a sip of water and once, to his mortification, having Arom wipe away a dribble of soup that had missed his mouth. Besides that, the meal passed uneventfully and Illian was surprised to see that unlike earlier he had been able to clean out the bowl without much struggle. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He did, however, decline Arom’s offer of seconds, deciding not to push his luck. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He was actually feeling content and ready to reopen his book until the doctor from earlier entered the room. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He was carrying fresh bandages, some creams, and three pill bottles. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Of course. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The anxiety pills. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Illian had actually managed to forget. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Arom stood up to allow the doctor to come closer. He was kind enough, said hello, and asked before undoing the bindings on his wing. That didn’t change the fact that Illian hated him and the entire situation made the blood in his veins pound. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Was there any way to avoid taking the pill? </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>What would it even do?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Whatever it was couldn’t be good. He didn’t need to be calm. He needed to find a way out. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The doctor continued to unwrap the bindings on his wing, when the bandages came off Illian was almost distracted from the pill problem. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It really did look awful. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The edges of the wound were an angry swollen red. And as he looked farther it only got worse. A dark shade of red bloomed from the center, it seemed only the pressure of the bandages kept him from bleeding still. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It was a hole, a hole in his wing, about an inch in diameter. The arrow had gone straight through. He could see where flesh broke to reveal ligaments and to his horror what might have been bone. He watched as the doctor carefully rubbed various salves and oils onto the injury. However, no amount of care could subvert the burning and stinging even the lightest touches produced. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>When he began treating the inner part of the opening, where the inside was exposed, he caused Illian to flinch. Arom reached over on his left side and took his good arm, rubbing circles on his wrist and murmuring soft comforts. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The process was painful but mercifully short. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Soon the wing was rewrapped. The doctor would leave the rest of his injuries alone for now. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>When done he opened one of the bottles and removed two pills. “You will need to take two of these at night to prevent infection, my Lord.” He placed them on the table and removed two pills from the next bottle. “One of these pink ones in the morning and two more at night, for the pain.” He placed them down and took an oval-shaped, chalk white, pill from the final bottle. “For now take one of these, you can take another during the day if you feel it is necessary. They will help with your anxiety.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>One of the servants appeared with a glass of water and Illian took the first four pills without complaint. However, he didn’t take the final pill when it was handed to him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’d rather not,” he tried for a polite smile, “I feel perfectly fine. I don’t need to be medicated.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The doctor pursed his lips and Illian once again smelled forest and ozone. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Arom was releasing his scent. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Not a lot, not enough to completely overwhelm Illian, not yet. However, it did make him a bit dizzy and he had to work hard to keep his mind sharp.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Why don’t we try it? Just for tonight? I think it will really help, angel.” He still held Illian’s hand and continued rubbing circles on his wrist. </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“I don’t want to. It will make me tired, right? I don’t want that.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The scent became stronger, so much so that when Arom asked the doctor and servants to leave Illian turned his torso to leave as well.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Arom placed a hand on his shoulder. “Not you, angel” his voice was soft. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>When they had left, Arom picked up the white pill continuing with the scent and looking directly into Illian’s eyes. “Today has been hard for you, I understand, and you’ve done so well handling all these changes. Now you’ve earned a chance to rest a bit. To let your mind stop working so hard. This will make things a lot easier.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Easier for you Illian thought. He knew it was an uphill battle, but if he took the pill tonight he’d end up taking it every night. He couldn’t let it become routine. Arom hadn’t used a command yet, perhaps he had a chance of convincing him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I don’t want to. I feel calm enough already. Please don’t make me.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You really won’t take it?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Illian shook his head.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Arom sighed. In an instant, the smell of forest became overwhelming. It was everywhere. Crowding Illian’s senses. He was choking on it, he couldn’t get enough oxygen. He inhaled sharply but only took in the smell of musty pine and ozone. Tears flooded his eyes. His limbs began to feel tingly and he lost the ability to move them. He was horrified, his heart thundered, but his mind began to lull. It was like his mind was fighting itself. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>One half wanted to have a panic attack and was screaming at him to run. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The other half was calm, dazed, happy. A fuzzy feeling slowly spread through Illian’s body until it reached his crown and the worried half of his head became a distant echo, locked away in a far-off corner of his mind as he completely relaxed. He knew he should be worried, but couldn’t remember why.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He realized he was leaning against something warm. Arom’s chest. When had he gotten into the bed?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He couldn’t think. A thick cloud had settled over his mind. All he knew was that he was safe and warm and exactly where he needed to be. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Arom placed something in his mouth then held a glass to his lips and told him to swallow. Illian did it without thinking, continuing to rest his head on the warm body in front of him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Then he was cold. The blankets had been moved and strong arms wrapped under his knees and around his shoulders. His wings hung limply down; any pain from moving them reduced to a dull ache. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The two were still alone as Arom walked towards one of the two side doors. He rested Illian’s head against his chest and used the hand that had held his shoulders to open the door. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Inside he placed Illian on a cushioned bench and asked him to sit still. He then walked over to a massive tub, ivory white and accented in various bright ceramic colors, and began filling it with steaming water, soaps, and salts until the water had turned a soft shimmery pink and the room smelled strongly of rose. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Aside from the tub, the room held tall shelves full of various bottles and luxuries; two deep sinks in a porcelain countertop that was decorated in more bright ceramic; several mats to stand on rather than the tiled floor; the bench Illian currently sat on; golden towel racks; plush towels; a door which presumably led to an equally grand lavatory; and mirrors covering every wall, bordered in gold and precious stones. It was all very beautiful and matched the splendor of the rest of the king’s chambers well, Illian dazedly noted. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His attention was only pulled away when Arom kneeled down and began to remove his loose bottoms. He watched, vaguely interested as they came off. He felt oddly disconnected from the moment as if he were watching through a glass screen rather than experiencing it himself. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His top was made of thin silky material. The back was shaped in a T with a single strap going between his wings, it connected with a wider piece of fabric that covered the bottom of his back and at the top, it split into two straps that wrapped around his shoulders and connected to the front of the shirt. Like overalls. His theory that it had been made specifically for him was confirmed when Arom reached to his back and undid two buttons which caused the front to fall forward, disconnected from the back. This allowed Arom to remove the shirt, without disturbing his wings, dragging it down his torso and off his legs. Leaving Illian completely nude. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He wrapped some sort of plastic sheet around his right hand’s cast then lifted him bridal style. He was very gentle as he placed Illian inside the warm water. He made sure his rights wing and arm hung over the edge and didn’t enter the water. The rest of his injuries stung slightly as they hit the water, but the soothing effect of the salts and temperature on his muscles soon had him relaxing them. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Arom took a silver basin full of water and poured it over Illian’s head. Then he took some shampoo and began massaging his scalp. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You used to do this for me, love. Do you remember? Now I get to return the favor” Arom purred as his fingers gently worked in the soap.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Illian wasn’t paying attention to Arom’s words but he did notice that the forest scent was gone, replaced by the various smells produced by the products in the steaming water. He could move his limbs more now and his head was clearer. He could remember why he was upset, yet he couldn’t produce those emotions now. His mind was working slower, he was tired, his emotions were in a glass cage. He could see them, but not experience them. As if he was merely watching another’s plight rather than his own. This must have been the work of the “anxiety” pill.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Aside from quieting his rebellion it also seemed to strengthen the blessed voice. Even now it quietly urged him to give in and to become Arom’s. He knew he should be worried, yet the emotion wouldn’t come. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Arom finished with his head, pouring more water over him to rinse, then moved on to the rest of his body. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Taking a wet towel he lathered some liquid soap on carefully, taking his time creating suds on the item. With an amount of gentleness, Illian thought him incapable of Arom worked the towel around his body. Starting with his left arm and shoulder, then onto the back and chest. Moving to the bottom half of the tub he carefully lifted each foot and worked his way up the legs. He might have been talking but Illian wasn’t paying much attention. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>When the towel passed between his legs he jolted subconsciously. The unfamiliar sensation sent shivers down his spine even in his drugged state. Arom either didn’t notice or pretended not to; keeping a steady pace and pressure as he cleaned the area. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Soon he was setting the first towel aside and picking up a small, yellow, sponge, with short soft bristles. He squirted soap from a new bottle onto it. It smelled vaguely citrusy. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He reached for Illian’s left-wing which had been folded under the water then he stretched it out so that it extended over the edge of the tub. He gently lifted him so he was sitting up straighter and began working from the base of the wing just inside of the shoulder blade outward towards the tips. Throughout the process, he kept up a stream of soft words and used a circular motion to thoroughly clean each feather. When he finished he placed the wing back into the water and reached for the right-wing. Illian shuddered slightly as it was moved in anticipation of pain that never came.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Don’t worry.” Arom cooed, “I’ll be very gentle, my angel.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>With the utmost care, he washed the wing, never coming close to the injury and its dressings. Taking a second damp towel to rinse off the soap. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He used another sponge. How many did he have? To clean the injured arm above the cast. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Then he took the showerhead, which detached from the wall, and rinsed Illian completely once again. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The water shut off.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Strong arms once again lifted him out of the bathtub and placed him on the cushioned bench where Arom took a large fluffy towel and carefully dried him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He meticulously patted Illian’s chest, back, and head before finishing with his feet. Kissing the top of one foot as he finished.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“There, all clean, my sweet. Now to bed. I think you’ll sleep well tonight.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He wrapped the towel around Illian and lifted him into the bed-chamber. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He deposited the smaller boy onto the large bed and disappeared into the second side door. He emerged a minute later with silk pajamas. These a deep shade of purple. The bottoms were long and the top had a T-shape similar to the one he had worn during the day. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He gave no resistance, nor any assistance, as Arom moved the clothes over his legs and strung his arms through the top.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Then he tucked Illian under the covers with another kiss on his cheek. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’ve done so well today, love. I’m so proud. Things will get easier, I promise. For now </span>
  <em>
    <span>rest</span>
  </em>
  <span>. You’ve earned it. In the morning we shall see about getting you some sun on the balcony.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The King continued talking but the words became scrambled and meaningless as Illian sunk under the fog of exhaustion. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------</span>
</p>
<p>
  <strong>The Next Morning</strong>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>At some point, after he had fallen asleep Arom must have washed and changed for when Illian woke up beside him he was wearing a fresh set of night-wear and his hair looked slightly damp. He was sitting up in bed with a book. Illian’s right-wing was stretched out and resting on a pillow. His left was curled over his chest like a blanket. A habit he had had ever since his wings became too large to fit onto his small cot back home. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>When he uncurled and stretched the wing Arom looked down at him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Good morning, my sweet. Did you sleep well?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He must have gotten used to Illian ignoring him because he didn’t even wait for a reply before turning to the servants standing to the side.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Go get us some breakfast, and please be quick.” With a snap of his fingers, two servants darted out. Then he placed the book down and hoisted Illian up by his armpits. He was still dizzy and chose to rest most of his weight on the pillows behind his back. He was annoyed that Arom had moved him without so much as a warning; that made him realize that he felt more present than the night before. Not completely his old self but much more cognizant. If one pill a day was the best he could hope for, perhaps he could make it work. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I was just reading one of the books I found for you yesterday. Very fun, I especially like the scenes on the deserted island.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ya, they were cool,” Illian mumbled, eyes lidded. If he tried he could have given a more energized response but that would have been tiring. Besides, convincing Arom he was as dazed as last night could only be beneficial. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>They, mostly Arom, kept up the conversation until the two servants had returned with two breakfasts. One, plain oatmeal and a few berries. It looked perfectly fine and would probably be the right choice seeing as he was still recovering, but he did pout as Arom was given a tray full of eggs, bacon, bread, butter, and coffee which smelled divine. Arom had the decency to look guilty as he sipped the coffee.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We’ll have you eating better soon. Just think in a few weeks you’ll be able to have whatever you want whenever you want, as my mate.” He began to feed Illian spoonfuls of oatmeal with berries, making sure each wasn’t too hot before holding it up before him. When the bowl was empty he even slipped him a small piece of bacon.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“For being so good and finishing your whole bowl.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The patronizing was annoying, but the bacon was good, even if chewing it did slightly aggravate his ribs. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Arom was quick to finish his own meal. The trays were cleared and he got up. Stretching slightly and cracking his back. He didn’t bat an eye as two servants exited from a side door carrying various clothing items and began undressing their King. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They had him dressed in a few minutes, and he did strike quite an image. His strong shoulders accented by the simple blue, collared, button-up, and black vest which matched his black pants. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He walked over to the bed, moved the covers, and carefully helped Illian into a sitting position on the edge of the bed. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I can handle this alone if you would leave for a few minutes.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The room was cleared quickly and Arom retrieved a set of comfortable clothes. Another T-back shirt, black with gold detailing on the chest and some matching shorts. He dressed Illian quickly and finished by kissing his hand. He hadn’t given him any shoes, but Illian hadn’t exactly expected to leave the room that day anyways. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Arom stood up and raised his voice, “you may come back now.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The servants must have been waiting just outside the door because five men and women immediately entered and took up their places along the wall. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Arom held onto Illian’s hand. “What’s on my agenda for today?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Erica stepped forward. “You are scheduled to hear pleas in the throne room then lunch with the emissaries from Galand before having a meeting with the council. After that, you have plenty of paperwork and contracts to sign.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The King sighed, “Looks like I’ll be busy today. There’s plenty of comfy chairs outside and it’s a nice day. Would you like to spend some time outside, Illian? The doctor recommended you get some sun.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Illian nodded. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Good.” Arom clapped his hands and spoke towards the servants. “You, bring out those books. And you, go get some water and fruit juice.” He bent over and hoisted Illian in a bridal hold. “They’ll be staying with you all day, just let them know if you are hot or if you need anything.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Then he walked out onto the huge balcony and placed Illian on a cushioned lawn chair made out of mahogany and cotton cushions complete with its own plush ottoman. It was under a large tree for shade but still at the edge of the balcony which allowed Illian to see huge sprawling gardens below. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The rest of the balcony was covered in more lush plants and flowers which made the area feel like a floating rainforest dotted with tables and chairs. The floor marble instead of dirt and roots. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>There was a cool breeze but the sun kept him warm. Soon the servant had returned with the water and juice placing the glasses on the table beside him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Arom made sure Illian had everything he needed before declaring “I have to go now, darling, if you need anything at all they,” he gestured towards the servants standing a few feet away, “are to provide it. I’ll be back before nightfall. Try to relax, and behave.” He leaned down to kiss Illian’s head before he left with Erica. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The blessed part of Illian felt a twinge of sadness as he left, but the rest of him was eager to finish his book and come up with a plan to flee.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Both of which proved to be difficult with his still drug-addled mind.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The words seemed to swim on the pages and trying to concentrate gave him a headache. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>After fifteen frustrating minutes, he ended up shyly asking Lewin to read the book out loud. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The blessed ended up falling asleep while he listened under the warm sun. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>---------------------------------------------------------------------------</span>
</p>
<p>
  <b>Two Weeks Later</b>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Two weeks of medicine, bandages, and porridge proved beneficial as the doctor declared that Illian was well enough to be moved, in a wheelchair. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It was such a small allowance, yet Illian was incredibly happy at the development. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Two weeks spent solely in the king’s chambers and the balcony had almost made him insane. Even a quick trip through the gardens seemed incredibly exciting in comparison. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>So he was lowered into an exquisite wheelchair fit for a King. Or his mate Illian thought,- spitefully. It was thoroughly cushioned and structured to allow the occupant to lean back slightly rather than sitting in an upright position. The backrest was wide and shaped to accommodate wings. The wheels were wide to prevent jolting of any kind and the back was decorated with gold, of course. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Arom pushed him down the halls away from his rooms and towards the blessed’s wing. It was to be a short walk but that didn’t mean that they didn’t need to take half a dozen guards with them.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Many faces turned as the King and his soon-to-be mate walked past. After so much isolation the attention made Illian squirm and look down to avoid their gazes. Not that a quick glare from Arom didn’t make the eyes look away as quickly as they could. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The group moved for a long time. The halls became more deserted as they continued. Until they came across two opulent doors surrounded by even more guards. They opened the doors when they saw the group approach and Arom wheeled Illian inside the blessed’s wing. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>When young, Illian had never visited the wing. It was kept mostly off-limits to even the highest-ranking nobility. Only the King and the servants and guards assigned to the area could come and go as they pleased. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>An unclaimed blessed would rarely leave the area and although a claimed blessed was technically allowed to leave freely where they went outside the wing was carefully monitored and many areas that were considered “too stressful” were off-limits. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Illian supposed he was an exception. Unclaimed yet not kept under lock and key in the plush prison.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Because that’s what it was. Grand, beautiful, carefully designed to please its occupants, but with only one carefully guarded exit and plenty of guards and attendants making sure the blessed acted as they were expected. It was sickening. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>There were almost a dozen blessed in the main hall. Lounging on couches, eating, watching television, and socializing. Illian supposed there was some truth to the stereotype for each was quite beautiful. Sporting various exotic traits and lithe figures from lives with little exercise. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>One girl with copper skin and dark hair looked at his group. Her eyes were bright gold and her cheeks held silver, swirling, patterns. She waved and Illian smiled back. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Arom pushed him past the blessed and the various side doors making his way to the back of the hall which held a grand staircase and large glass doors which led to the blessed’s gardens. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The weather had been nice so the doors were propped open to let in the breeze. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Arom along with another guard carried him and the chair over the door stoop. A couple of weeks ago it would have made Illian indignant, but now he only felt a mild shame. Whether it was because he still took one of those despicable pills at night or because he was getting used to the shame he didn’t know. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He was then wheeled across the patio onto one of many perfectly smooth, paved, walking paths carefully maintained by garden-hands who would probably be beheaded if a single blessed tripped on an out-of-place brick. As such the walk was perfectly smooth. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The gardens were very beautiful. Plenty of trees and flowers. The different areas designed to mimic different climates. Right now Arom was pushing him through a temperate forest with ferns, shrubs, and tall trees with stretching branches. They passed an attendant and her blessed who had clawed hands and looked longingly at one particularly tall tree with plenty of branches that would be great for climbing. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Illian empathized. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s a beautiful day today. I’ll bet it’s nice to explore more of the palace, right Illian?” Arom asked.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Illian hummed. “Yes, it’s quite pleasant.” He kept his voice meek and didn't say more. Over the past week, he’d maintained a performance that suggested the pill had a stronger effect than it did. To “play the part” as Assan would say. So far everyone had completely bought it. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Arom was only too happy to see that he had “helped” Illian overcome his anxiety.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Look! Over there in that tree. Those are southern birds. We have them imported to the palace gardens, aren’t they beautiful?” Arom pointed at a flock of bright yellow and red birds happily pecking at fruits in a tree.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hmm. Oh yes, the birds. Beautiful. But why don’t they just fly away?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well, we clip their wings. Completely safe, but it keeps them from flying too well or high enough to get over the wall. A small price to pay for safety from predators and all the fruit they can eat!” Arom laughed but a cold feeling crept into Illian’s chest. Suddenly the birds seemed a lot less happy. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The walk continued for about half an hour. They hadn’t even seen half of the gardens before Arom decided Illian-</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Looks pale.” He was speaking to one of the guards and then turned towards Illian. “We can continue this tomorrow, angel. I think we’ve seen enough. Let’s head back to the room. We can have lunch and then perhaps a short nap for you.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>With that, the group made its way back to the blessed’s wing. After all, there was only one exit from this part of the castle. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Illian said nothing on the way back. His mind kept going back to those birds. The way Arom casually discussed their imprisonment as if it was a good deal for the birds. Really, he and the birds were in the same situation it saddened him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But no, he wasn’t like those birds, he could fly and he would escape. That night, before taking the pill, when his mind was at its sharpest he went over possible escape plans. None so far seemed like they’d succeed but he didn’t give up hope. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>--------------------------------------------------</span>
</p>
<p>
  <b>One Week Later</b>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>A week after the first expedition into the gardens once again saw Illian in his wheelchair with Arom and half a dozen guards enjoying the cool weather. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They were in a new part of the garden, a flat grassy plain full of flowers. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The group had stopped and Arom was kneeling before Illian’s chair. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>This time something was different.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>For the past few days, Illian had practiced walking in Arom’s rooms. Never for long and never without a lot of support, but walking nonetheless. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And now, after lots of begging and pleading and pouting Arom had agreed to let Illian walk outside for a little bit. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Now he kneeled in front of Illian. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Are you sure you’re up for this? No shame if you’re not, walking outside is different from inside. We can always wait a little bit.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Illian shook his head. “I can do this. You’ll be here to keep me safe so I know I won’t fall.” He gave Arom the smile he had carefully cultivated in his three weeks of captivity. It worked its wonders and Arom smiled. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ok then.” He stood up, grabbed Illian by the armpits, and hoisted him into a standing position. “Just let me know if you need a break, angel.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Illian wrapped his arm around Arom and put most of his weight onto the larger man. For this particular trip, he was wearing his usual outfit of soft fabrics, a T-backed shirt, and loose pants plus a shawl that covered his wings for the chill and, something completely new, a leather set of sandals to protect his feet. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The two moved slowly while the guards gave them a little distance. Illian was pleased to see that he actually felt no pain in his ribs as he moved. He was healing, slowly, but healing. Besides the improvement in his ribs, many of his cuts and bruises had disappeared as well. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It would be a slow process, but eventually, he would recover. The thought was invigorating. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He walked with Arom for about two minutes before Arom paused and decided Illian had exerted enough effort for the day. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He called the servants forward and had them set up blankets and pillows on the grass for Illian to rest on. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The setup was actually quite nice, and Illian was grateful to spend more than his usual half-hour in the gardens. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Arom sat down next to him and traced patterns onto his good wing while Illian read his latest book, this one about a young detective trying to catch a jewel thief. Like all his books the adventure helped distract from his own reality. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>----------------------------------------------------------</span>
</p>
<p>
  <b>That Night</b>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>After three weeks Illian’s nighttime routine was fairly routine. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>After dinner which was either eaten in the bed or in the large sitting area inside the chambers, Arom would send the servants and guards out to give himself and his “angel” some privacy. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Then he’d have Illian take those dreaded pills which rendered him intoxicated and pliable when he first ingested them. After the first night he never put up a fight, but every time he saw the little white pill he cringed, it was his biggest obstacle to escape. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Then Arom would carry Ilian to the bathroom and wash him before carefully drying him and helping him into his night-wear. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Then he’d bring him back to the bed. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Tonight when he softly placed him on the mattress he went to the nightstand, opened a drawer, and pulled out a vial of a slightly clear yellowish oil. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’d like to try something, I think you’ll like it. I’ve been studying up on past winged blessed and apparently this is quite popular.” He positioned a few of the pillows and moved Illian so he was lying flat on his stomach wings spread. Then he poured some oil onto his hands and rubbed them together. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“According to a past king’s journal his winged blessed always got quite sore right here.” He rubbed the area behind Illian’s shoulder blades where the wing met the back gently. Illian couldn’t deny it did feel heavenly. Supporting his large wings was difficult for his small back and the area did often get sore, especially now that he couldn't shrink them. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Arom’s calloused hands felt incredible. They moved on from his shoulder blades and explored the rest of his back. Unlocking each knot and sore muscle with gentle circles and pressure. Why a kind would be so skilled at massage Illian did not know, but at that moment he didn’t really care. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Moving on from the back he began working on his wings, taking extra care to avoid the injury on the right. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I asked the doctor and he made me this oil, it’s supposed to be good for sore muscles and feathers.” He kissed Illian’s neck and continued. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Someone as special as you deserves to be treated this way. Kept safe. Treasured. It’s been difficult, but it's getting better right? You seem happier and you’re accepting your role so well, darling. I’m so proud!</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And soon we’ll be mated then the whole world will know that you are mine and no one would dare harm you.” He whispered lovingly. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Even in his dazed state, the idea of being mated scared Illian, but for now, all he could do was keep up the act and plan his escape, at least the massage felt nice and Arom seemed to be buying his weak act. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The massage continued even after Illian had drifted off. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>----------------------------------------------------------------------------------</span>
</p>
<p>
  <b>Two Weeks Later</b>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Illian leaned heavily on Rube Penn. He was on another walk through the gardens. It had been five weeks since he received his injuries and his walks had become more frequent and longer. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Today, Arom had been too busy to accompany him so he assigned the captain of the guard, Rube, to assist Illian in his stead. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>So Illian leaned against the tall, muscular man as they made their way slowly around the gardens.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Honestly, Illian probably could have walked faster, but letting everyone think he was more injured than he was was a part of his plan. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He was proud of how far he had come in his recovery. He could see real progress. His wrist was still in its cast, but his wing had begun to scab over and fill in, and his ribs only presented any pain when he directly poked them or tried to run. Not that he would ever be allowed to run by Arom or the guards. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>For now, he continued to lean on Rube. The atmosphere was a bit awkward as the two had never been together without Arom. Illian never talked much and Rube seemed to be treading around eggshells, not wanting to accidentally aggravate the blessed. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Illian chose to end the silent hell.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“So, captain of the guard. You must be very skilled. You weren’t here when I was young, so I don’t know much about you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Rube reached up and scratched the back of his cheeks blushing slightly. “Oh, I wouldn’t say I’m especially skilled. Arom has helped me get to where I am.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh is that so?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Umm, ya. He- uh he’s kinda the whole reason I could even serve in the royal guard much less lead it. I came here when I was seventeen and Arom was nineteen.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“So a year after I left.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ya, I used to be in the military sector but I pulled off some crazy stunt during a battle that got me promoted to the royal guard as a reward. It’s a pretty plush job ya see. Higher pay, less risk, but still an honorable position. Best-of-the-best kinda thing.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Interesting. What kind of stunt did you pull.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh, that. It was crazy. Me and a few buddies were supposed to sneak across enemy lines and plant some explosives but we got spotted and had to run. I could see we wouldn't be able to flee so I told ‘em ta take a sharp turn and hide in some trees. Then when we were inside the trees I used my handgun and snipped the main guy. His head totally-” he paused, probably realizing he was speaking to a precious, fragile, little blessed, “Uhhh, the rest of the stories pretty boring. Point is: lots of these high-class noble types didn’t want a guy like me on the royal guard. I’m born from commoners ya see, most of these guys come from nobility. But the way I heard it was was that King Arom totally stuck up for me. Said I earned the right to serve. Great guy he is. Few years later when the old captain retired he chose me to be the next leader. Said I was the best fighter and leader, that I was the best choice. Of course, by then everyone knew not to question King Arom, ‘less they wanna get on his bad side.” He laughed. “See, that’s why he’s such a great king. He gets stuff done, doesn’t care about all these stupid traditions and shit just chooses what’s best.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Illian could think of one tradition Arom was quite fond of, but like always he didn’t voice his opinion and simply let Rube continue. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He seemed kind enough. More rough and honest than most in the palace. During the rest of the walk, the tension between the two eased slightly. Illian even laughed at a few of his jokes as they continued. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>-------------------------------------------------------------------</span>
</p>
<p>
  <b>One Week Later</b>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>After five minutes of walking unassisted Illian claimed he was too tired and asked to be brought back in the wheelchair Cecily had been pushing behind him while he walked. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Arom who had been eyeing him worriedly the entire time was only too happy to comply, helping him sit down.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Good choice, angel. No need to push yourself; you’ve got lots of time to recover. How about we get you some hot chocolate?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That sounds nice.” In truth, Illian could have kept walking. He had felt fine. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He had recently begun walking without assistance, the doctor had even shown him some stretches to help him move his ribs and wings. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Illian had pretended to be uninterested in the exercises. Doing them half-heartedly and feigning exhaustion whenever asked to do them in front of someone. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But in the precious few moments, he had alone Illian enthusiastically worked through every movement carefully. He had started to see real results. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He could walk more, move without pain, once he had even achieved an inch of liftoff through his wings alone. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It was slow, but the healing was real. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He kept all of this hidden, especially from Arom. He needed them to see him as weak and injured for as long as possible. Giving them a false sense of security would aid in his escape. And, if at any point Arom thought he was well enough to be mated all hope of escape would be lost. After all, being mated would mean a physical link to Arom. To the point, that separation could cause real harm to Illian. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>But for now, he was unmated, healing, and pulling off the act of a weak, injured blessed perfectly. Illian had hope. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Thank you so much for the comments and kudos! They make me so happy and inspire me to write. All week I have been checking my works page, all those numbers make me so happy.</p>
<p>Also, in case it wasn't obvious the "anxiety pills" are not what you or I would consider anxiety pills, they're more like straight-up drugs not meant to cure anything but to make him more submissive. Also for the wheelchair scenes, the reason he is angry is because of the whole blessed thing and the fact that it's kinda their fault he's injured not because he's in a wheelchair or needs help with certain things. That's nothing to be ashamed of. </p>
<p>Sorry about the delay, to make up for it I tried to make this a bigger update. Thank you for reading!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
</body>
</html>